A Study in Sherlock: Stories Inspired by the Holmes Canon

I do not often read short story collections. Not to say I have anything against the format; as a matter of fact, a well-crafted short story is often rather like instant gratification to a reader: it does not take the same amount of time to read as a novel, but can be just as fulfilling if it's good. But I find that, as a rule, I only enjoy short stories if they are in collections written by one author, and preferably linked to one particular world or universe. Lots of writers do this, especially those who have long-running series, as a means of filling in certain gaps in the series, or for telling stories they might like to tell, but which don't have the necessary substance for a novel.

And then there are the collections that are meant to be tributes to a single author. This is usually done for authors who have had immense impact on the genre in which they wrote. After the King, for instance, is a collection of short stories containing works by some of the most notable fantasy writers still living, and is a tribute to none other than J.R.R. Tolkien himself (the “King” in the title of the collection). That one proved to be quite an enjoyable read - one story in particular, Peter S. Beagle's “The Naga,” is one of the stories I ask my students to read for class.

But it is very rare that short story tributes are made up for a fictional character - mostly because said character would have to be more influential than the writer who created him or her. However, that is most assuredly the case with Sherlock Holmes. Though a fictional character, there is no doubting that Holmes has a stronger grip on the imaginations of all those who encounter him, in his various incarnations, than his own creator, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. Indeed, so powerful is the presence of Sherlock Holmes in the minds of people that it's hard to think of him as fictional at all. Many people - mostly diehard Sherlockians, but oftentimes more run-of-the-mill folk as well - speak of Holmes as if he were a real person. They speak of Dr. Watson as real, of Moriarty as real, of Irene Adler as real. It is as if, through some mysterious, magical means, Sherlock Holmes and the characters around him have seemingly emerged and detached themselves from the fabric of Doyle's stories, and embedded themselves in that strange gray space between true history and speculation.

So powerful is Holmes's hold on the imagination of all those who encounter him, that it seems only fitting that a tribute collection of short stories should be made up for him - not, it should be noted, for his creator. And that is what A Study in Sherlock is, essentially: a tribute collection of short stories honoring the most quintessential, most influential detective in fiction (and maybe history).

The authors listed are notable, though I am only familiar with very few of them. I know who the editors are: Laurie R. King is the author of the Mary Russell series, and Leslie S. Klinger is one of the most famous Holmes scholars, not least because he put together the Sherlock Holmes Reference Library, which is an annotated version of the entire Holmes canon. I know Neil Gaiman, of course, being a fan of his work. I am also familiar with Lee Child, though I have not read his work; the Jack Reacher novels are really more my mother's thing than mine. The other authors are utter unknowns to me.

None of this matters, of course. I am always happy to acquaint myself with new authors, and sometimes a short story is a handy way of doing so, especially in collections such A Study in Sherlock. However, one of the most common problems I have with these short story collections popped up almost immediately: a noticeable lack of consistency.

Some of the stories were utterly intriguing. For instance, the first one in the collection, Alan Bradley's “You'd Better Go in Disguise,” was interesting because it told a Holmes story from an utterly different perspective: that of the criminal. The reader does not know initially that the narrator of the tale is a criminal, but this is quickly revealed in the climax and denouement. This was an utterly diverting new way of looking at the classic Holmes story.

Another excellent example of the above is “The Man With the Twisted Lips” by S.J. Rozan, which is a direct reference to the Holmes story of the same title - no surprise there, really, since this story is actually a behind-the-scenes look at what was going on in "The Man With the Twisted Lip." In Rozan's story, it turns out that Holmes and Watson's involvement was carefully planned by the Chinese immigrants who maintained opium dens in the area, setting the events up as a means of ensuring the lascar of the original story is chased out of their territory for good, but without calling undue attention to themselves. The way this story parallels Doyle's story is such that it is almost impossible to read the original without thinking of Rozan's, and how it fits so neatly into its fabric.

Equally good is Thomas Perry's “The Startling Events in the Electrified City.” Narrated (as expected) by Dr. Watson, it is a story that takes place after the events at Reichenbach Falls, and follows Holmes and Watson to the United States, where they receive a most unusual request: they are asked to help in the assassination of President McKinley - by McKinley himself. While there is nothing new with Holmes being involved in the affairs of famous historical figures (particularly those who were alive when he was), this one takes a whole new spin on things by introducing an element of conspiracy into the supposedly “known” facts of a historical event. All of a sudden it is tempting to look at certain historical askance and wonder if it were not possible that Holmes might have had a hand in them somehow.

Equally interesting is “The Adventure of the Concert Pianist” by Margaret Maron. Though it is set during Holmes's time, this is one of those stories that does not directly involve Holmes at all - in fact, the case is solved by Dr. Watson (thus proving that he is not the bumbling, well-meaning idiot he is portrayed as sometimes), and the narrator is none other than Mrs. Hudson herself. Though the case is one of those unremarkable things that Holmes would likely have been able to solve blindfolded and with one hand tied behind his back, it was still a wonderful opportunity for Dr. Watson to take center-stage, and to hear (for the first time, I think) Mrs. Hudson speak on her famous lodger (and perhaps her desire for him as well?).

A great many more of these stories, however, do not deal with Sherlock himself - in fact the connection is rather tenuous, like in “The Adventure of the Purloined Paget” by Phillip Margolin and Jerry Margolin, which involves a group of very wealthy Sherlockian collectors and a newly-discovered story, supposedly written by Doyle for Queen Victoria, and illustrated by Paget, hence the title of the story. Others are rewrites of Doyle originals, such as “The Eyak Interpreter” Dana Stebenow, a rewrite of Doyle's "The Adventure of the Greek Interpreter," but updated for an audience more familiar with the blog format. It even includes comments on blog entries, some of which have been deleted by their authors. “The Case that Holmes Lost” is a meta look into a Holmes story that will never see the light of day, with the focus on Sir Arthur Conan Doyle himself.

And then there are the stories that are inspired by Holmes, instead of being about him or being a rewrite of his original advenures. “The Last of Sheila Locke-Holmes” by Laura Lippman and “A Spot of Detection” by Jacqueline Winspear are precisely that, with Lippman writing a coming-of-age story for a young girl who wants to be just like Holmes (and a great many other detectives, besides), while Winspear writes about a young boy who turns out to be a young Raymond Chandler, and how Holmes turned him into the writer he would eventually become.

Some stories, though, are just totally out there. I was expecting this with Neil Gaiman, and his story “The Case of Death and Honey” is precisely that: it takes off from an interesting plot point in "The Aventure of the Creeping Man," with Holmes advising Watson to change some information in the actual facts of the case, thus allowing Holmes to freely pursue the real "rejuvenation extract" mentioned in the story - not an extract from langurs, as the story claims, but the elixir of life itself. Another story in this vein is “As To ‘An Exact Knowledge of London'” by Tony Broadbent, which plays on the idea that Holmes and Watson are reborn, over and over again, even as their greatest nemeses, Professor Moriarty and Sebastian Moran. This one is interesting if only because it contains an up-to-date list of contemporary Holmes media culture, plus an image of Watson and Holmes working on computers and surrounded by all the technological trappings of the 21st century.

Such a diverse selection of writers, all writing stories in their own style and each with a different take on Holmes and the culture Holmes has created, is great for gaining insight into the ways that Doyle's creation has embedded himself into the collective consciousness of all those who have encountered him. However, I find that not all of these stories are quite so fun. Some, like Broadbent's story, really aren't about mystery at all, and are only interesting for their connection (and manipulation) of Doyle's characters. Neither did I enjoy Lippman's tale all that much, since I was rather hoping for a child-sleuth story with coming-of-age undertones, not a coming-of-age story with child-sleuth undertones.

I suppose my dislike of some stories is due to the fact that I was looking for a particular type, or types, of stories, and the ones I didn't quite enjoy simply did not fall into those types. Perhaps if I were to read the stories I did not enjoy some other time, when I'm in the mood for them, I might enjoy them then. But, regardless of how I might feel about the individual stories at a later date, A Study in Sherlock comes off as rather inconsistent to me - and probably always will. I would have appreciated a certain kind of cohesion to the types of stories that were included, and not just a grab-bag of Holmes-related, Holmes-inspired material. I did not particularly enjoy the uneven nature of the collection, jumping from one type of story to the other.

Overall, A Study in Sherlock is an interesting collection: a testament to the power Sherlock Holmes wields in the collective imagination. But the grab-bag nature of the collection, and general uneven feel as one moves from one story to the next, might prove to be a bit irritating to the reader who sits down to read the collection in its entirety, and not just one or two stories because it is by an author the reader recognizes. Individually, the stories are quite good, but together, they do not make for a very cohesive collection.